


Just a Minute

by Pepper20



Category: Voltron - Fandom
Genre: Cute, Disney, I think I'm funny, Keith is given 4 weeks to live, M/M, Pickup Lines, Ship, The Gay Is Real, WIP, Work In Progress, art of animation, jk i am funny, kachow, keith secretly knows everything, klance, klance at some point in this, lance doesn't use punctuation, lance has a samsung galaxy, lancey-lance is a flirt, no i'm not, pidge is bi, pidge knows nothing about disney
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2018-10-14 21:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10544692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pepper20/pseuds/Pepper20
Summary: Keith is given 4 weeks to live and so his roommate, Pidge, takes him abroad on the advise of a blogger and he meets the boy of his dreams.





	1. Chapter 1

“I’d give it four weeks,” the doctor muttered.  
“FOUR WEEKS?” the boy in the red jacket yelled, his black mullet falling in between his eyes. The doctor nodded solemnly.  
“I’m sorry, Keith. I really am, but I’m done sugar coating things. You have maybe a little more than four weeks to live.  
Keith slumped down into a chair. The news was hard to take. What would he do with the rest of his money? What would he do with the rest of his life—all four weeks, twenty-eight days of it?  
“Go travel, Keith Kogane. Where haven’t you been?” the doctor persisted, kneeling next to Keith, half-heartedly trying to pry Keith’s hand away from where it covered his face.  
“I don’t speak any languages other than this one,” Keith said from behind his hand. He raked his hand through his hair, an old habit, and heaved a deep breath.  
The doctor sighed. “I hate doing this,” he said under his breath as he rose. Keith raised his eyebrow. “I hate telling people that they’re going to die. It isn’t fair.”  
Keith sat up. “I hate dying. It isn’t fair,” he shot back.  
“Take your money and go somewhere! Go out! Have fun while you can! Go!” the doctor burst out.  
The red-coated boy stood. “Fine. I’ll see you on my death bed,” he said before storming out of the hospital.  
Keith stepped into the apartment and surveyed the abundance of medical supplies before him. It looked more like a graveyard now than ever but Keith suspected that was just his head playing tricks on him. He thought of going to bed and then another thought dawned on him.  
Movie marathon.  
“Well I guess you only live once…” he murmured and slid in the DVD for Star Wars: A New Hope. He gathered himself on the well-worn couch that he and his best friend (who wasn’t home from work yet… Weird. She usually worked the morning shift and was home by noon.) had bought together months ago.  
Just after the opening scrolling story started, the door clanked shut, just the way Keith’s flat-mate always shut it.  
“Hey Keith,” a voice called. “Star Wars again? Well do you want me to make popcorn? How’d the doctor visit go? By the way, do we have to get rid of all these machines? I’d like to experiment on some of them to see if I can make them better.” By the time the last question faded, a small girl had poked her head around the corner. She was trailed by a hovering prism that was a metallic gray color with green highlights on it.  
“Hey Pidge, Rover,” Keith sighed. “Yes, please do make popcorn. There’s a lot we need to discuss.”  
Pidge plopped down on the couch next to Keith and set the bowl between them. He looked at the remote, willing Pidge to drop the subject and to not make him talk about his own impending death. Pidge looked at him and took a popcorn kernel and looked Keith in the eye.  
“Catch.” Keith’s eyes lit up. This was an old game that they used to play a long time ago. Pidge squeezed her eyes shut behind her oversized glasses and threw the kernel in Keith’s general direction. Keith caught it in his mouth without hesitation and threw his hands up in victory. After a few more round of this, Pidge put down the popcorn bowl.  
“So, are you gonna tell me or what?” she asked. “How long do you have?”  
Keith looked down. How had Pidge known? Well of course she knew. They’d grown up together. They knew each other inside and out. “Four weeks,” he finally said.  
Pidge paled. “That’s…not a lot of time…” she said.  
Keith’s featured turned hard. “I know that, Pidge. It’s twenty-eight days. Six-hundred-seventy-two hours. Forty thousand three hundred and twenty minutes. Two million, four hundred nineteen thousand, two hundred seconds. And ticking.”  
Pidge grimaced and said nothing, but picked up the remote and pressed the play button.  
Three hundred, seventy-nine minutes later, Pidge had wandered off to play with some of the machines that Keith didn’t need anymore, but to be honest, she was probably asleep in bed at this hour. Keith’s watch read just past midnight. He knew he could stay awake a little longer, so he started watching more works by Harrison Ford. He wasn’t sure how long Indiana Jones lasted because he fell asleep halfway through Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, a soft ticking in the back of his mind always persisting.  
“Pancakes…?” was his first thought as the scent drifted under his nose. The morning sun was streaming through the window and there was Pidge, flipping pancakes in the kitchen.  
“Are you hungry? I’ve already made three for you and I’m not sure if you want more than that,” Pidge said. Keith started to smile, then all the memories of the last day crashed down around him along with the grin he’d had a second earlier.  
“I’m about to die. Do I look hungry to you?” Keith snapped and stalked out of the flat.  
After he left, Pidge sighed and buried her head in her hands.  
I don’t know how to deal with him, she thought. I don’t know how to talk to someone who’s dying. I don’t know how to comfort them.   
“What should I do, Rover?” she asked the robot wearily. Rover floated over to Pidge’s computer. She raised her eyebrow. “Google always has the answer, I guess.” Pidge flipped open her computer and typed in the search bar, “comforting dying people”. The first thing that popped up was a blog and Pidge clicked on it because why not?  
“Hello, guys. I’m @hunkchef (hunkchef@vmail) and if you’re reading this because a person you know is dying, I’m sorry. Really, truthfully sorry. I’m here to tell you guys how to deal with someone who is dealing with death. First off, they’ll be impressively moody and negative for a few days. After all, they’re dying. What did you expect? You’ll just have to humor them. The best ways are saying, ‘I understand’ and ‘I feel for you’. Empathy is the best way to get to someone who seems like they don’t want to be gotten to. After the moodiness, there are many different paths they could take, but the three main ones are 1) they’ll be dead. Sorry. 2) They might obtain the mindset of YOLO (you only live once) and spend all their cash and be happy for the rest of their short days. Or, 3) they could just remain moody and cold with all their pent-up anger at themselves or a divine being for giving them so little time. Option number two is obviously the best option, but it’s less common than the other two. In my personal experience, the best way to talk to anyone who’s dying is to just pretend that it’s not happening. It’d be good for them to forget or not think about it even if it’s just when they’re with you because unless you are a divine being or secretly a genius scientist, in the end, you’re just a friend and there’s nothing you can do to prolong their lifespan. You can just make their remaining days better. Be playful, laugh, and encourage them to do the same. I hope this has been helpful to you and by extension, your friend that is dying.  
Yours,  
hunkchef”  
Pidge scanned the short paragraph again and again, trying to memorize it and then clicked the email link.  
hunkchef,  
Thank you so much for your generous blog about dying friends. It was a tremendous help to me as my flat-mate has just been diagnosed with a terminal disease and given four weeks to live. I want to help him the best I can and your blog has helped me do so. What further can I do? Is there anything? Keith has been my best friend since we were born and he has helped me past some difficult stages in life including my own issues and now that he has fallen ill, I want to do everything I can for him until his dying breath.  
Thank you for your consideration and time.  
Sincerely,  
Pidge Holt  
Thirty-six minutes later, Keith was still not back and hunkchef had replied to Pidge’s email. It read:  
Pidge,  
I’m sorry about your friend and I’m glad that my blog helped. I’d need to know a more specific instance for how to help you help your friend, Keith, and would it be possible for me to directly correspond with him?  
hunkchef  
Pidge decided to throw away all formalities and just be cautious. He knew better than anyone how people could hide their identities over the internet. He switched to the Vmail chat.  
“How do I know you’re not a fifty-year-old axe murderer just waiting to kill my friend?  
“Because… You have my word?”  
“not good enough.”  
“I swear on the soul of my father, Domingo Montoya. You will reach the top alive.”  
“I swear did you just make a Princess Bride reference??”  
“Is yes the right answer because I could lie and say no.”  
“okay fine I’ll give you his email. You may not see him in real life, but you may email him. It’s redkeith@vmail okay?”  
“Thank you, Pidge.”  
“Your name is Hunk, right?”  
“Yeah”  
“Okay”  
Pidge flipped on the TV and glanced toward the door. Keith still wasn’t home yet. That was odd. When he went off, he was usually home within an hour. It had been almost double that. Pidge tried his cell and it went straight to voicemail. What was Keith doing? More importantly, where was Keith?


	2. The Beginning Of The End

Keith wrenched the wheel to the left and the car skidded right into the fence. Dammit, he thought. He pulled out his phone. Pidge Holt: Missed Call (6)

Oops.

“Hello? Keith?” Pidge’s desperate voice filled the silence of the road. “Oh my god I was about to call the police! I was about to call the marines! GOD DAMMIT KEITH, I WAS ABOUT TO CALL ALLURA AND SHIRO.”

Keith held the phone at arm’s length away from his ear but could still hear Pidge’s worried shouting clear as day. Tomboy or not, Pidge still retained some feminine worry. Of course, Keith would never say that to her face. Or maybe he would. The worst Pidge could do was kill him. Or maybe shut him out. Maybe that would be better. Then, Pidge would be less hurt when Keith died.  
“Pidge…”  
“AND THEN I DON’T KNOW WHO I’D CALL. JESUS CHRIST, MAYBE ZARKON. HE’D LOVE TO FIND YOU OUT IN THE WILDERNESS ALONE.”  
“Pidge.”  
“YOU HAD ME WORRIED SICK!”  
“Pidge! SHUT YOUR QUIZNAK AND LISTEN TO ME!” Keith shouted. “I’ve crashed my car in the snow and I need you to come and pick me up. I’m sorry I missed your calls and I’m sorry that I worried you, but now you need to get over it and come and get me.”  
Pidge sighed resignedly and Keith could almost hear her massaging her forehead with her hand and then pushing up her glasses which always slid down her nose when she did that. “Fine, even though it’s illegal because I’m don’t have a license yet. Where are you?”  
“At the corner by the grocery store that Allura always makes us go to when she comes to visit because ‘Altean foods are wonderfully diverse, Keith’” his imitation of the Altean accent was shitty, he realized. Very shitty. “Come faster. I’m cold,” Keith said, suddenly realizing that he might never see Allura or Shiro again. They lived far away and the only came to visit once a year so unless Pidge told them, they wouldn’t see him again before he… Before he died.  
The extra car that Pidge had rescued and doctored back to working condition from the junk lot skidded around the corner and she got out of the car. She froze when he saw Keith’s car. It was totaled. The hood was crumpled into the rest of the car, smashed against the earth and the fence.  
“Keith, you know we don’t have the money to fix this. I’d need completely new parts! Plus, I was going to spend the money on something else…” Pidge said, eying the wreck.  
Keith’s head snapped up. “On what? You never spend money, Pidge.”  
Pidge examined his sleeves. “We’re going on a trip. I won’t tell you where, but don’t worry about this for now,” she said gesturing to the red, broken car. Keith nodded and went to get into Pidge’s car. “That doesn’t mean you get to forget about it!” Pidge called after him. “I’ll call Matt. He’ll know what to do with this.”  
Matt had taken the car and offered to pay for repairs. Pidge had just looked to Keith. Keith had shaken his head no. He’d be dead soon anyway. Pidge wouldn’t need more than one car. Pidge would be alone. No, Pidge would go and live with Matt probably.  
“Hey,” Pidge said, waving her hand and bringing Keith back to the present.  
“Yes?” Keith answered, looking up from his pizza.  
“Nothing,” Pidge said, rolling her eyes. She quietly hummed Space Odyssey.  
“Shut up,” Keith said, glaring. “Pidge, are you sure that this isn’t going to poison me or something?”  
“It won’t. Do I look dead to you, Keith?” Pidge shot back.  
“But it’s… pineapple. On… pizza. No one does that,” Keith said, going back to staring at the slice of pizza on his plate.  
“Try it, Keith.” Pidge took a bite of her own slice.  
“But Pidge—”  
“Eat.”  
“I could just fix myself some cereal,” Keith observed.  
“Close your eyes.”  
“Pidge I won’t let you feed me pizza.”  
“Close your damn eyes, Keith.”  
“Pidge, I won’t let you.”  
“Fine!” Pidge took another bite of his pizza and let Keith go get his cereal. But when he came back to the table, Pidge stared at Keith, horrified.  
“You’re going to eat Lucky Charms. Lucky Charms, Keith. You’re going to pass up pineapple on your pizza for Lucky Charms?” Pidge said incredulously.  
“Yes.” Keith replied matter-of-factly, pouring the cereal into a bowl.  
Pidge only buried her face in her hands and finished her slices of pineapple pizza. Keith pointedly ate his Lucky Charms.  
“After we finish eating, I want you to pack your bags,” Pidge said after a solid five minutes of silence.  
“Why?” Keith asked, still sour about the slice of pizza that, sure, he hadn’t wanted, but Pidge had taken it from his plate.  
“As I told you when you crashed the car,” Pidge shot a sidelong glance at Keith, “I’m taking you somewhere. You deserve to get out. You’ve never had a girlfriend, have you?”  
Keith blushed a bright red, almost as red as his car had been. It wasn’t like Pidge to bring up girls. In fact, Pidge had never brought up girls.  
“Umm… Girls?” Keith laughed nervously. “Pidge, why are we talking about girls?”  
Pidge’s grin only grew. “Because.”  
Keith tried to nail her with his best death look.  
Pidge smiled. “Okay, test’s over. I kind of knew already.”  
“YOU KNEW?” Keith shouted. That was the one thing he’d never told anyone. A wave of relief swept over him. The prospect of outright saying, “I’m gay,” to your best friend was still terrifying. Those two words could carry so much weight in a friendship.  
“Yeah. You can’t live with someone and not notice that they’re gay. I’ve seen your room, Keith. I helped you decorate it.” Pidge snickered. “And the way you panicked on that April fool’s day when I took your posters… That was the best. Your face when you realized what had happened was priceless!”  
“Pidge…”  
“You were so confused and then you almost started crying! I saw! Don’t deny it! You started crying over your posters!”  
Keith turned a shade darker red. “Then you’ll also remember, Pidge, that we were never going to speak of that again.”  
Pidge smirked. “But I’m your best friend, Keith. Best friends never forget.” Keith sighed and went to pack his bags.  
“Keith!” Pidge’s voice woke him from his sleep.  
“What?” Keith muttered groggily.  
“C’mon, we have to go. I scheduled the cheapest flight I could under Matt’s name because minors can’t book flights, apparently, but the flight leaves at six, so we need time to get there and get to our gate. It’s four now, so I figure by the time you actually wake up, it’ll be four forty-five or five and I’ve already packed our stuff in the car. You’ll drive us to the airport and I’ll take over from there.”  
“What?” Keith mumbled again, sitting up. His eyes focused on Pidge in her usual green and white jacket. Pidge grabbed Keith’s hairbrush (something he took care to keep a secret from everyone else. No other guy he knew had or used a hairbrush, but his mullet sometimes got so messy in the morning that he needed it.) and started running it through her hair. Keith just sat there, still too tired and discombobulated to move. When Pidge was satisfied, he dragged Keith out of bed, handed him a bagel, already toasted just the way Keith liked it with just enough cream cheese. Then, Pidge walked with the still half dazed Keith out to the road.  
“I called a taxi because I figured you shouldn’t be driving when you’re sleeping on your feet,” Pidge reasoned.  
“Great,” was Keith’s reply.  
The twenty minutes to the airport were full of Keith’s questions.  
“Pidge, when’re we going to be there?”  
“You don’t even know where we’re going.”  
“Fine. Where are we going?”  
“You’ll find out when we get to the gate.”  
“But Pidge I want to know.”  
Pidge glared at Keith. “If you’d eaten the pineapple pizza, I might consider telling you, but you didn’t eat the pizza.”  
Keith glared back at Pidge and turned is back on him.  
“Which gate are we leaving from?” Keith asked once they were standing in front of the “C” gates.  
“Eleven, since you won’t stop asking.”  
Keith stumbled to gate eleven, dragging his bag behind him. The gate was at the end of the long hallway and Pidge trailed after him, holding two tickets for Orlando and two tickets for Disney.  
“We’re going to Florida?” Keith asked, picturing palm trees, convertible cars, and beaches.  
“Orlando to be more specific,” Pidge answered him.  
“Orlando like Disney or are we meeting Orlando Bloom?” Keith asked, thinking of the casual clothes he’d packed. That wouldn’t be good for meeting his childhood hero…  
“Nope. Orlando like Disney,” Pidge announced, holding up the twin tickets for Disney.  
“How’d you know that I’d never gone?” Keith asked.  
“Well I remembered the time about seven years ago when you were nine and I was eight. Matt and Shiro had offered to take us to Disney and they’d bought the tickets already, but then you got the flu and Shiro wouldn’t let you out of the house. You were so sad. You wanted so badly to meet Winnie the Pooh. Then, the next year, you were diagnosed with your disease…” Pidge trailed off, unsure of what reaction mentioning Keith’s terminal disease would spark. Finally, Pidge looked up, but he only saw a red blur before Keith wrapped her in one of his biggest hugs. Pidge gasped, partially because Keith was forcing all the air out of her lungs and partially because the last time Keith had hugged her like this was when Pidge had come out to Keith as bisexual and started crying because she was so terrified of not being accepted.  
“Boarding Section One,” the PA system droned.  
“That’s us,” Pidge said, turning to Keith.  
“What? Wait… Pidge those seats cost so much!” Keith said, but he gathered his bags all the same. Pidge only smirked.  
"Hurry up, idiot."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my first fic, I didn't think it'd get half this much popularity, so thank you.


	3. Someone New, Someone Different

The flight was long. Two hours and twenty minutes of sitting still, looking out the window, and being bored in general. Keith had never wanted to teleport to badly. It was just two hours and twenty more minutes gone from his time left. Pidge had fallen asleep in the seat next to him. He eyed the Sharpie poking its head out of Pidge’s bag and his eyes flicked back to her face. He wanted to. Very badly. Well… You only live once? The sweet fumes of Sharpie drifted through the cabin as Keith started a masterpiece.

When the plane landed, a tall boy in a red, yellow, and white jacket exited the plane, beaming. At his side, a small girl with her wild hair cropped short scowled through a black penned monocle, curly mustache, and beard.  
“What the hell were you thinking, Keith?” Pidge snapped.  
“I was thinking that you had a better sense of humor than this,” Keith shot back.  
“This is going to take forever to get off,” Pidge mumbled, walking brusquely toward the luggage carousel. Keith trailed behind, smirking. He checked his watch. It was almost nine in the morning. It wasn’t yesterday that he had been told four weeks. It was the day before. So… three weeks and five days left.  
“Stop,” Pidge said abruptly.  
“Stop what?” Keith asked.  
“Thinking about it. You get this look on your face when you do. I don’t want to hear about it all vacation, ok? I don’t want you to think about it. Have fun. Live.” Pidge’s brown eyes held no trace of anything but honesty and caring and childish innocence. Keith nodded, knowing it would be impossible.  
“I don’t want to hear it and Matt doesn’t want to hear it,” she concluded.  
“Matt?” Keith asked, looking around Pidge’s brother.  
“Yes. He’s meeting us tomorrow. That’s why we have two hotel rooms. One for Matt and me and the other for you.”  
“Oh.”  
“Is that ok? I mean he’s helping me pay for it and he wanted to go so badly I invited him…”  
“Oh yeah it’s fine. It’ll be fun. Matt always makes it fun,” Keith said with a smile, remembering all the times when they were younger and Matt had played with them and when Matt had driven then to the park or to the Children’s Museum or to the zoo. Matt had always been like his own older brother and Pidge had always been like his sister. There had been one time when Keith’s foster parents either hadn’t bothered to pick him up from school or had forgotten and Matt had been there in a heartbeat. Keith smiled. There wasn’t anyone else he would rather spend his last days with.  
The luggage spun in an infinite circle, just going around and around again if no one collected it. He scanned the spinning conveyer belt for any sign of his red and grey bag or Pidge’s green one.  
“Sorry but have you see a blue bag? I can’t seem to find it…” a boy in an army green sweatshirt said, sidling up to Keith.  
“No, sorry I--” Keith started.  
“Another thing I seem to have lost is my heart,” the boy continued, cutting him off. “To you, it seems. Ya blasted thief.”  
Keith was speechless. “I… Uhh…” he stuttered.  
“No, no, no,” the boy said, waving a dismissive hand. “No need to thank me for my good looks and smooth nature,” he winked. “A phone number will suffice, thanks.” In an instant, the boy had his phone out and was poised, ready to begin typing in a number.  
“I--” Keith began.  
From out of nowhere, Pidge took the boy’s Samsung Galaxy and typed in a number. Keith could only stare as she handed the boy back his phone with Keith’s number in it.  
“You’re welcome,” she said, then dragged Keith off to where she had gathered both their bag and a taxi.  
“Art of Animation,” she told the driver once a stunned Keith and a smirking Pidge had stuffed the luggage into the trunk and piled into the back seat. A buzzing in Keith’s back pocket shocked him back to reality and he pulled out his phone. 

“hey there handsome” 

Keith quickly shut the phone off and slammed it down on his leg. He looked over at Pidge.  
“Why did you do that?” he asked her.  
“Did he text you yet?” she retorted.  
“No,” Keith lied.  
“You’re blushing he definitely did,” she said.  
“Why did you give my number to a stranger?” he asked again.  
“Well, I got the luggage and then I was looking for you and I saw him talking with a chubby guy. He pointed at you and the chubby guy got this look on his face. He grinned and said something. The blue boy blushed and nodded. Then the chubby one laughed and the blue one came up to you,” Pidge explained. “What did he say?” She made a lunge for his phone still on his leg and he slammed his hand down to protect it, but she was faster. She grabbed the phone and opened it. An evil grin spread across her face as she read the single text, then her thumbs started moving. Keith dived to take the phone, accidentally hitting the send icon in the process.

“Hey hottiewvdgbkp” 

Pidge grinned at him, handing Keith back his phone. “Have fun with that.”  
He shot a withering glare at her. “Thanks. I will.”  
She winked Keith pulled out his phone again. He started typing. 

“I’m sorry my friend took my phone. I don’t even know your name. What is your name? Who are you?” 

Send. Pidge raised an eyebrow at him over the book she had opened. The Industries of the Future by Alec Ross with its red cover and 320 pages glared at him from Pidge’s hands. Keith checked his watch. How long did he have? The ride from the airport to the hotel was twenty-seven minutes long and he’d been in the car for… A buzzing cut off his thoughts.  
“most people call me lance mcclain but you can call me tonight ;)” Keith rolled his eyes. He didn’t have time for this. 

“Okok cut it with the pickup lines they’re cheesy.”

“admit it you love em”

“I really don’t?”

“you will”

There was silence. Keith wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that and the last thing he’d do would be to ask Pidge. He stole a glance at the girl. She still had Sharpie on her face and was obviously acutely aware of it. A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. The Sharpie was a brilliant idea. He checked his watch again. They should be there by this point… Sure enough, he looked out the window and there was the Art of Animation in all its Disney glory.  
“We have to check in first,” Pidge said once the taxi driver had dropped them off along with their luggage.  
“Right,” Keith said. He was mildly uncomfortable. There were statues as tall as the buildings of Ariel and Ursula and King Trident surrounding them. He watched them warily. He’d seen enough Doctor Who to know that statues were not to be trusted. The two walked on in silence, Keith eying the statues they passed of the hyenas from the Lion King.  
“Do you know where we’re going?” he asked Pidge after a few minutes of walking.  
“Well I looked up a map before we came. It was highly unhelpful. It wasn’t even color coded! What are we—animals?”  
“According to science…”  
Pidge shot Keith a Look which cut him off quickly. They walked in silence until they reached the main building. As they walked it, Keith looked around him. There were drawings of Disney characters everywhere. Nemo was staring at him form a wall, smiling while Mator and Lighting McQueen—kachow—grinned at him from another wall. Pumbaa and Timon were gallivanting off in the direction of Sally, also from Cars. Pidge looked around.  
“Keith do you know any of these characters?” she asked.  
“You don’t?” he asked.  
“Uhh… Well, I know that that,” she pointed, “is Simba? Or is it Nala?” she trailed off, taking in the rest of the drawings.  
“Pidge,” Keith groaned. “Have you ever even seen The Lion King?”  
She hesitated before saying, “Well it’s the same storyline as Hamlet, right? I mean how different can it—”  
“Very different, Pidge,” Keith seethed. “We’re watching Disney movies all night,” he said. The smaller girl decided that it wasn’t worth arguing about and shrugged, walking over to the reception desk.  
“Good morning! Here to check in?” the woman behind the desk asked.  
“Uhh yeah. I’m here with Matt Holt. He’s coming tomorrow but—”  
“That’s just fine, sweetheart,” she said, her tone dripping with artificially sweetened honey. “Is this your dad?” she asked, turning to Keith.  
“I uhh, no, no, no. Of course not. I’m a uhh family friend?” he said, quickly.  
“Alright. Now can we have your license plate number?” she asked, offering Keith a pen. He glanced at Pidge to see that she was fuming.  
“We came by taxi,” Keith explained.  
“So, what’s your license plate number?” she asked again.  
“We came in a taxi. It’s not our car,” he said.  
“I’ll get your plate number when your dad—”  
“Matt’s not my dad!” Keith said loudly.  
“Comes for you and your brother—” she continued only to be cut off by Pidge.  
“I’m a girl,” Pidge growled.  
“Sister, then, tomorrow, how about that, honey?” the woman corrected. Pidge heaved a sigh. This woman was not worth arguing with. If she wanted to say that Pidge was a birch tree, that would be wrong, but fine.  
“Then when the adult comes, okay?” she smiled, her smile as fake as her tone.  
“Okay, fine. That’ll work,” Pidge intervened. As Keith was about to erupt in an outburst.  
“Alright, honey, so,” the woman pulled out a map. “Your rooms are here.” She circled a building on the far right with an interstate symbol with the number two.  
“So… our rooms are in…” Pidge made a face, squinting at the map. “Radiator Springs?”  
“Yep!” the woman chirped. “Just go straight out of those doors, hang a right and keep walking until you see building two. The room number is 2536 and here’s your key!” She handed them three hotel key cards and they walked out the door.  
“How are we going to tell her?” Keith asked.  
“Well we could just hide when she comes. We don’t have to answer the door,” she suggested.  
Keith was silent for a second. “You’re not wrong,” he said finally.  
“I know.”  
Keith made a humming noise that vaguely resembled a “mhm.” Then, his back pocket buzzed.

“so other than gorgeous what should I call you”

“My name is Keith.”

“thats adorable”

“My name is not adorable?”

“yes it is”

Keith shut his phone and jammed it back in his pocket, annoyance written all over his features. He could see out of the corner of his eye that Pidge was grinning, but he decided not to pursue the subject. This… Lance… was someone new to him. He seemed interesting to be sure, but he was someone new, someone different. Keith glanced back at Pidge. He couldn’t take her seriously with the Sharpie all over her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The scene with the license plate? That actually happened to me but I was camping with my cousin and my brother and we had canoed to the site and they wouldn't stop asking for our license plate number. It was hilarious afterwards.


End file.
